More infoFor more information about Scooter Hinge or to schedule an appointment to tour the rental hall, call 303-995-5866.

MEAD -- The visual smorgasbord inside Scooter Hinge would take days -- maybe even weeks -- to fully digest.

The kitschy nostalgic rental hall, nestled in the heart of downtown Mead, houses scores of eccentric memorabilia hunted down and fixed up by the building's owner, Stan Luebbers, 48.

"There's a story behind everything. Some sad, some tragic, some made for a TV movie," said Luebbers, who has owned the hall since September 1995.

More than 1,000 antique dolls, most with the blinking eyelids, reside in the hall. They join lingerie-clad mannequins, mounted animal heads and skeletons. Hundreds of old paint and motor oil cans line the walls, as do vintage metal signs advertising everything from tires to Coca-Cola.

The name Scooter Hinge is a nod to the hinged rear fenders on classic motorcycles, Luebbers said. He has about 40 of the bikes inside the hall.

"I love memorabilia, all the colors, the artwork. It kind of makes me breathe a little," said Luebbers, who works as a mobile locksmith and lives in Erie when he's not on the road.

'Extremely unique place'

With its unassuming beige and gray facade, Scooter Hinge is the kind of place you could easily walk past without a second glance.

Stan Luebbers talks about the thousands of items he has collected and displayed inside his historic rental hall, Scooter Hinge in Mead.
(
Matthew Jonas
)

The roughly 10,000-square-foot building, sandwiched between a glass repair shop and a residential home, is actually two conjoined buildings that now share an address, 333 Main St. The building on the north end was a hardware store built in 1940. On the south end, built in 1917, was a Ford dealership and auto garage, said Pauli Smith, executive director of nonprofit historical society Historic Highlandlake. A Texaco station sat in front of the auto shop.

James Abbott, who now lives next door to Scooter Hinge, diplomatically called it an "extremely unique place."

"We've known Stan the whole time he's been here, so we're kind of jaded 'cause we get to see the stuff no one else gets to see," he said.

A mannequin's hand holding a "help" sign is seen sticking out from the head of a bear skin at Scooter Hinge in Mead. Stan Luebbers, who owns the rental hall, said he sometimes displays items "to see who s paying attention around here."
(
Matthew Jonas
)

Luebbers said many folks don't know Scooter Hinge is a rental hall. They think it's a bar, a restaurant or a museum. That might be because he doesn't advertise; word-of-mouth accounts for nearly all his clients. Scooter Hinge isn't open to the public, though Luebbers does offer tours by appointment.

The hall can seat about 280, and Luebbers rents it to about 25 groups a year, mostly for reunions and graduation, birthday and wedding parties.

The town of Mead rents the space for a handful of events, including the annual holiday party. During the grand re-opening of Mead's downtown in August, tours of the place left residents fascinated, said the town's economic development specialist, Linda Martin.

"They walked out and they're like, 'Whoa.' They were like, 'That is really cool. That is interesting.' They had things to talk about," she said.

'If I like them, they stick'

Most of the stuff inside Scooter Hinge comes from decades of scouring yard sales and antique shops. Luebbers also has inherited hand-me-down items from friends and family.

There's a strange art to the whole place.

"I just put things with things, and if I like them, they stick," Luebbers said.

Hanging down from a ledge, for example, is a bear skin rug with the bear head still attached. Inside the bear's mouth is a mannequin hand that holds a sign that reads "help." That's there "to see who's paying attention around here," Luebbers said.

If there is a theme to the place, it might be reclaimed vintage. The wooden bar and stools come from a downtown Denver restaurant. Tables and plastic orange chairs are salvaged from the shuttered Westminster Mall's food court.

Parade saddles and tricycles hang from ceiling beams in the band room, which includes a stage for live music. One wall of the room is lined with windows that look out into the cavernous space that was once the auto garage. Luebbers calls this the "dream room."

At one glance, you might spot a pinball machine, monster bobble heads and ceramic nude women's torsos. Another look reveals a stuffed buffalo head and a birdcage. Photographs of friends and family, some who are deceased, are propped up against the windows.

"It's a dreamer's room to see what you see in life," Luebbers said.

This part of Scooter Hinge, which is not open to the public, is storage for unfinished or delicate items. About 10 cars, in various states of disrepair, are inside. Enough mannequins for a runway show stare back at visitors. One dressed as Dorothy from the "Wizard of Oz" grips a stuffed beaver in one hand and a fistful of cash in the other. She holds an envelope that reads "Pet my girlfriend's beaver for a dollar." Guests who tour the dream room often tip the mannequin for good luck, Luebbers said.

A 1965 Harley-Davidson Panhead inside the dream room was once the ride of a rough-and-tumble man who killed his wife and then shot himself, Luebbers said, though he can't recall the man's name. As a kind of karmic cleanse, he placed a prayer circle of four winged pigs around the bike's wheel.

There's not a clear logic to Luebber's collections. He's not sure himself why he accumulates the stuff. It gives memorabilia a place to live, he said.

"People have it in their basements," he said. "I just have it on a bigger stage."

Stan Luebbers stands in the doorway between the main building of Scooter Hinge, which was once a hardware store, and the area that was once an alley behind the store. Luebbers owns Scooter Hinge, a nostalgic rental hall in downtown Mead that displays his eclectic collections.
(
Matthew Jonas
)

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